Chapter 22

Taft was sent directly to surgery at River Glen General Hospital—Glen Gen to the locals—as was Anna DeMarcos. Prudence had suffered a concussion and was being monitored at the hospital to make sure there weren't further complications. Mackenzie had told the police that Prudence had shot Anna point blank, so there was an officer stationed outside the door to Emergency's inner sanctum.

Mac had met the EMTs and ambulances at the Mangellas', along with two officers from River Glen P.D., and then had driven Taft's Rubicon to the hospital where she'd anxiously waited outside of surgery for the results on Taft. Detective Verbena was called and she came to interview Mac—twice in one day—clearly roused from sleep and not happy about it. Mac related the sequence of events that had led to the shootings. She'd been tested for gunshot residue on site; Taft's gun was taken from her. She knew the evidence would prove that Prudence had fired the bullet that had hit Anna, and that Anna had been the one to shoot Taft from the same gun, but in the meantime she was peppered long and hard with questions that ran over the same information again and again. Verbena was clearly suspicious over the fact that Taft had inherited the bulk of the Mangella estate, and she wanted to interview Taft as soon as possible. Mac tried to keep from telling exactly how Taft had gotten access to the garage, but Verbena was not the kind of person who overlooked those kinds of details. Because Taft had broken into the garage, it could be construed that Anna had every right to protect herself from an intruder, and therefore every reason to shoot at Taft. But with Mac a witness to what had actually occurred, that would be harder to swallow. In the end it was for a court of law to decide.

Now, Verbena said, "Did Haynes get hold of you?"

Mac was practically pacing in the small waiting room outside the OR, her mind on Taft. "Was he trying to?"

"He wanted to warn you about Erin Humbolt among other things."

Mac stopped short, so sure Verbena had been going to say Mia Beckwith that she'd almost said her name first. "What about Erin?"

"She's a patient here, too." Verbena's brows rose. Clearly she'd expected Mac to know.

Mac gaped. "What happened?"

At that moment the doors to the elevator at the end of the waiting room opened and Cooper Haynes himself stepped out. Relief made Mac's bones damn near liquefy. She hadn't realized how much she'd been holding on by a thread till she saw him. In her mind, he was almost as much a mentor as Taft.

"I'll let Haynes fill you in," Verbena said dryly, clearly seeing Mac's reaction.

Verbena reminded Haynes, "You're on leave," as he strode forward.

"Right. I forgot," he told her, to which she threw him a mock glare and moved away from them.

"She called you?" Mac asked, as Haynes gestured for her to step to the side of the room closer to the elevators.

"She knows I was trying to get hold of you."

Mac felt a warmth for the prickly Verbena who, whether Haynes was on administrative leave or not, was still keeping her partner well informed. "You didn't have to come in the middle of the night."

"It's morning," he pointed out with a faint smile. "When I heard about Erin Humbolt I tried to call both you and Taft."

"We were busy."

"This is totally unofficial. I'm on leave, but I'd like you to give me what you gave Verbena."

"I'm sorry about Art Stanhope."

"Forget it."

"Can you tell me about Erin first?"

"Verbena didn't fill you in?" He didn't wait for a response. "It was a drug overdose. She managed to call nine-one-one."

Mac could feel the blood drain from her face as he explained the circumstances of Erin's call for help and the fact that she was unconscious and still when the paramedics found her. First Mia, then Erin . . . all just hours ago.

He finished with, "She may not make it."

Mac nodded grimly. They were saying the same thing about Anna DeMarcos, but she didn't feel any kind of empathy for her. "Mason thinks Mia was followed to River Glen by her boyfriend and that he killed her. Your partner doesn't really think so, and neither do I. Now with Erin . . . it's something closer to home."

He mulled that over and asked, "Can you tell me what you told Verbena?"

So, Mac slowly launched into her tale again, but she also added a brief recap of her meeting with The Sorority. Someone had run Gavin Knowles off the road, someone in a white vehicle. Mac now knew the blue Accord was from the Anna/Prudence camp, and she hadn't seen any white cars outside Kristl's house in the cursory look she'd given the street, but that didn't mean one of them didn't own one.

And what about Roxie? Was it coincidence that she had shown up last night? Natalie said she'd invited her, but when had that invitation been given?

And Kristl . . . who'd genuinely seemed to want Mac at the Sorority meeting. Did she suspect something, or was that giving her too much credit?

Mac was beyond tired. It had been a very long night and she needed sleep, but she wasn't willing to leave the hospital until she knew Taft was all right.

She wrapped up with Haynes, then went to one of the couches and collapsed as Haynes walked over to his partner. She was glad to have a few moments to herself. She knew Taft was going to fully recover, but she wanted to get her eyes on him, wanted to be sure.

She could hear a little bit of Haynes's conversation with Verbena. They were treating Erin's overdose as attempted homicide, though there was an outside chance she'd tried to commit suicide, then had changed her mind in the eleventh hour. Everyone was hoping she would wake up soon and be able to tell them what exactly had happened.

Finally, the doctor came out and approached Verbena and Haynes. Mac jumped up, aware they were discussing Taft's injury. She heard enough to learn that he was in recovery and would be transferred to a room soon. He'd sustained enough damage to require a more serious surgery than originally expected.

Anna DeMarcos was still in the operating room.

"You need a ride home?" Haynes asked her as she sighed with relief that Taft was through surgery.

"No, I've got Taft's car. Oh, my God. The pugs ! What time is it?" She searched in her purse for her phone.

"Six a.m."

"I've gotta go. I think Taft's neighbor's coming today to pick up his dogs, but they've been alone since last night."

She would come right back. Take care of the dogs and return. She hurried out but it took her over an hour to drive Taft's Rubicon back to his place, feed and walk the dogs, then return to the hospital in her rental car. She stalked straight to the OR waiting room again, only to find that no one was there. It took her frustratingly long minutes to learn which room was Taft's and when she finally had the floor and number, she practically burst through the door to find him awake and sitting up, but hazy, his right arm wrapped from shoulder to elbow.

"Hi," he said with a dopey grin.

Mac laughed, then felt tears burn her eyes. She quickly blinked them away. "You look terrible."

"Yeah?"

"I took care of the pugs."

His eyes widened. "Oh, good. God."

"They were pretty glad to see me. I think you said Tommy was coming back today?"

"Yeah . . . he'll let himself in . . ." He shook his head, as if trying to displace the brain fog. Making a face, he asked about Anna and Prudence, so she brought him up to date with what she knew. She also told him about Erin, but wasn't sure he was taking it all in. He needed time to fully come back.

His eyes were closed when she finished and she whispered, "I'll be back later," slipping out before she could disturb him further.

On the drive to her apartment she ran out of energy completely. No sleep and, as Taft had reminded her, she'd been half done in when she got to his place last night. She barely made it up the stairs and through the unit to the bathroom where she stood under the shower till the water ran cold, then stumbled into bed, naked. She fell asleep thinking of being pressed warmly up against Taft.

She awoke hours later, shocked to see the long shadows creeping in through her window. It was a dark day and growing darker. Sweeping up her cell from where she'd left it on her nightstand, she saw it was past four o'clock.

And there was a text from Taft: How're you? I am leaving this hospital if I have to break out.

She grinned and checked the time on the message. An hour ago. She wrote back: Want me to come get you?

Yes.

On my way.

She climbed out of bed, took a look at herself in the mirror, and inwardly groaned. "Scruffy," she muttered aloud. She looked pale and drawn. Well, hell. She hurriedly added some makeup, then put on clean jeans, a dark blue sweater, her black Nikes and jacket. She had a slight headache and wouldn't you know, her ankle, which she'd all but forgotten about, had somehow gotten tweaked in the melee at the Mangella garage and now jabbed her if she moved too fast.

At the hospital, she ran into Taft's surgeon, who very clearly and plainly told Mackenzie that it would be much better if he spent the night at the hospital. The doctor had said the same to Taft, who had not taken it well.

Mackenzie steeled herself to run up against serious resistance when she had to renege on springing him, but when she entered his room his head was sunk into the pillow.

"You're not ready to leave," she said.

He pulled himself upright and sent her a baleful glance. "Yes, I am. Where're my clothes?"

"Your doctor wants you to stay."

"Yeah, well . . ." He didn't finish the thought but his tight lips declared his feelings on his doctor's orders. He tried to lift his bandaged shoulder and said, "It isn't that bad," but the effort clearly cost him.

"Oh, your wound? The one where the bullet ripped through your shoulder and caused a lot of damage?"

"Laughlin, get me out of here."

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"Where are you going?" he snapped.

"Home. To give us both some more rest. I could sleep for a week."

He muttered something beneath his breath, but she ignored him. Cranky was good. Cranky meant the patient was getting better.

Back at her apartment, she beelined for the kitchen and made herself a tuna and pickle sandwich, cutting it into quarters. She sat down to eat it and had to push Ethan Stanhope's laptop to the side of her kitchen table. Holding a piece of the sandwich in one hand, she scrolled aimlessly through Ethan's pictures again with the other. When she finished the sandwich, she got up and grabbed an apple, then returned to the laptop. As she bit into the apple, she thought about The Sorority . . . forcing her mind not to circle back to Taft.

Why had Sam wanted this laptop so badly? she asked herself. Though he'd apparently given up the idea after she and Mason had met him at the Waystation. Had he been afraid she would find something about the fentanyl, then when she admitted she already knew about it, it hadn't mattered to him any longer?

She moved from the pictures to his documents. She realized with a start that Sam's screenplay was one of the more recent files and when she clicked on the icon it opened to page one. Maybe this was the reason Sam wanted the laptop so badly? Because he'd moved his screenplay to it? He'd been promised the computer and it looked like he'd actually started using it before Coral handed it over to Mac.

She started reading the screenplay, only half paying attention to the words as her mind still kept wandering. Forcing herself to concentrate, she learned that Sam's story was more of a complaint about his main character's, Stu's, life within a wealthy family who didn't understand his fervent desire to play water polo in college and maybe professionally and how he resented being pushed into business classes by his overbearing father. Well, that rang true, she thought with an inward snort.

Mac hadn't read any other screenplays but she could tell this one was all over the place, continually cutting into the narrative by flipping back and forth to flashbacks of high school water polo games that Stu had played against opponents. There were so many characters listed who didn't seem to have any point in the present day where Stu was slaving away as a middle manager in an insurance company with minimal chance of moving up, all the while dreaming about his past and what could have been if only he'd followed his heart. In the end he improbably finally got placed on an underdog team that had no chance of winning, except Stu nearly single-handedly led the team to victory. End of story. Stu never had any breakthrough moment with his overbearing father, nor did he come to grips with the accident that killed his two siblings even though that was a big part of the screenplay's first scenes. So much of the story was taken up with high school water polo game after high school water polo game, that it felt like Stu was still living in the past.

Mac figured Coral and Art Stanhope had never read the screenplay. If they had, they probably wouldn't have been so concerned about it as it didn't really explore their family tragedy.

She sat back and closed her eyes. Something was tickling her brain. All those games felt like real memories and probably were.

She looked at the screen again and slid her finger across it, backing up a number of pages, settling on one of the games where Stu's team had lost. One of the players on the opposing team was named Sumner Parker. It had caught Mac's attention, she realized, as she breezed through the first read, but she hadn't made the connection till now. The name was almost the reversal of Parker Sommers, Leigh's husband. Was that just a coincidence? Or did Sam know Parker? Was he from the area? Leigh had said she met Parker at musical theater camp, but that didn't preclude Parker and Sam from crossing paths.

Mac exited the screenplay and clicked back onto Ethan's pictures. She scrolled through them again, concentrating harder on the ones from water polo games. There was Ethan . . . and there was Sam in several pictures. Though the brothers were two years apart, they'd both made the varsity team Sam's senior year and Ethan's sophomore. She slowly checked out other photos, examining the members of the visiting teams . . . and stopped short at one photo in particular. The guy was wearing swim goggles and his hair was covered beneath a tight rubber cap as he was caught half leaping from the water to catch a ball. Could that be Parker? Something about his mouth made her think it was.

What school was River Glen playing? It was impossible to tell from the picture.

Would Parker have also been in drama at his school, or possibly community theater? Maybe that's why he seemed so familiar? Maybe she, Mac, had seen him in a production?

She picked up her phone and called Leigh, whose cell went straight to voice mail. Mac clicked off. Well, okay. Leigh was probably still ignoring her calls if she was anywhere near Parker.

She glanced at the time. Parker Flooring would still be open and Leigh would likely be there. Was it worth going to talk to Parker about his possible friendship with Sam Stanhope?

She settled for calling Sam himself, even though he'd made it pretty clear he wanted nothing to do with Mackenzie. But he did pick up the cell and answer with, "Who is this?"

"Hi, Sam, it's Mackenzie Laughlin. I wanted to let you know you can have Ethan's laptop back."

"Okay . . ." He was surprised by her call and sounded like he was looking for the catch.

"I noticed you have your screenplay on it."

"Yeah, I was working on it. But I've got it on a flash drive, too," he let her know, as if he thought Mac was criticizing him.

"Okay. Well. It's here if you want it, or I can drop it by."

"No . . . I'll pick it up. Maybe tomorrow."

"I also saw that you were on the water polo team with Ethan. And I recognized Parker Sommers in one of the photos."

"Okay."

"He was at Glenview?"

"No, Laurelton. Valley Sunset High."

"Laurelton. Leigh said she met him at musical theater camp. I thought he was from farther away. I didn't realize he was so multitalented."

"Yeah, well, Parker was an all-around guy. What time should I pick up the laptop?" he asked hurriedly.

The thread of tension in his voice came through over the phone. If it wasn't the screenplay that made him so desperate to have the laptop back, then what was it?

His anxiety had really ramped up when she'd mentioned Parker.

She could hear him breathing hard on the other end of the line and decided to take a wild guess. "Parker was your dealer, wasn't he? Ethan knew it and when you and Mason wouldn't give him the fentanyl, he went right to the source."

" What? Fuck, no! I didn't have a dealer. We didn't . . . have one. You don't know what you're talking about. It wasn't like that with Parker or anyone . . . it wasn't that way."

It really sounded like it was.

"Ethan didn't know about the fentanyl," he went on without waiting for her to say anything. "You're trying to make this something it's not. You're trying to pin the blame on us when it was just an accident!"

"Maybe I was wrong," Mac allowed, trying to ease off the topic with him, though she was pretty sure she'd landed on the truth. She'd gotten what she needed and now just wanted off the phone.

"You're such a fucking bitch," he snarled but there was fear in his voice as he clicked off.

"You're going to have to try a lot harder than that," she muttered. She'd been called names from about everyone she'd questioned, a sign she was on the right track.

Mac wondered if Leigh knew that Parker had likely been Mason and Sam's dealer ten years earlier. Was Parker still involved with the drug trade? How strong were the tentacles into that world?

She got into her Focus and cruised to Parker Flooring. Thought about alerting Taft, but then diverted to Cooper Haynes as a backup. Since he'd left her messages on her phone she had his number, so she redialed his cell. He answered almost immediately with a worried "Mackenzie?"

"I just was going to call Taft and let him know where I was going in case something happened. Like you and I talked about earlier, there've been a lot of deaths, but I didn't want to worry him and—"

"Where are you going?" he interrupted.

"Parker Flooring, to talk to Leigh Sommers. I don't really expect anything to happen." She was debating whether to reveal her feelings on Parker, but heard the voices of his family members and realized they might be preparing dinner. "I'll call you when I leave, all right?"

"Yeah, don't forget or I'll be calling you."

She drove to Parker Flooring under leaden skies that opened up just as she pulled into the lot. She saw Leigh's Tesla and several other vehicles, a Humvee and some vans, parked toward the back of the lot. So, Leigh was here, and Parker as well.

She didn't have a rain hat and hurried through the sudden spate, shaking water from her hair beneath the awning over the front door. She twisted the knob and let herself inside and waited for one of the salespeople to approach her as they did last time. After five minutes she stepped farther into the room, peering around the rows of flooring samples, but the place was deserted. Pulling out her phone, she checked the time. Straight up six. Maybe they'd all gone home and someone had forgotten to lock the door.

So, where were Leigh and Parker? She cruised by the offices at the back of the room but the doors were closed, curtains drawn, lights out. She listened at the door to the warehouse and heard the faint beeping from what sounded like the warning of a vehicle backing up. She tried the door and found it unlocked. Opening it, she listened and heard the light grumble of an engine and saw the strobing yellow flashes of light from whatever vehicle was moving behind the row upon row of marble, granite, and quartzite slabs.

She cautiously stepped forward just as said vehicle rounded the corner to where she was walking. It was moving slowly, holding a huge slab of gray-veined marble in its front claws. Leigh was in front of it, moving quickly down the row toward Mackenzie. Mac opened her mouth to greet her when the vehicle suddenly sped up, coming straight at Leigh, the enormous slab practically at Leigh's heels. Jesus!

"Look out!" Mac yelled.

Parker's head snapped out of the vehicle's cab and he glared at her. "Get out of the way!" he roared at her.

Panicked, Leigh ran toward Mac, who'd stopped short when the vehicle picked up speed. Now she grabbed for Leigh, pulling her toward her, and both of them started racing away from Parker. Mac turned onto a row perpendicular to where she was running, and Leigh skidded and grabbed at her and made the turn, too.

Parker slammed on the brakes and the slab of marble crashed to the ground.

Mac didn't know whether he'd lost it or dropped it on purpose. She hung onto Leigh. They were both breathing hard. Then Leigh was barreling ahead with Mac on her heels. Behind them, she heard Parker shift gears to turn their way.

"He's trying to kill me!" Leigh sobbed. Her makeup was running in rivulets down her face and there was a rip in the sleeve of her green blouse.

"We gotta get out of here!" Mac yelled. "Call the police!"

"He's crazy! He knows I know about Ethan."

Parker was having trouble getting the machine to squeeze through the smaller side rows. "Here!" Leigh ran to a door against the far wall, yanked it open, and then she and Mac were running down a concrete corridor that ended back near the offices.

"What does he know about Ethan?" Mac asked, panting, looking behind them as they careered into the main showroom.

"That Ethan stole the drugs. Had 'em in the pool house. Mia knew and Erin saw 'em. I didn't know that till yesterday. And then . . . and then . . ." She fumbled with keys for one of the offices.

Hurry . . . but no . . . "We need to leave, Leigh. We need to leave. He can't trap us in the office."

"We're safe here!" She pushed Mac inside and Mac fell against a desk as Leigh locked the door from the inside. Her ankle throbbed and it was dark as pitch till Leigh switched on the light. Mac blinked in the sudden blast.

"And then fucking Roxie had to remind them all . . . I Eta Pi . And Erin looked at me and knew. Just like Mia knew. Parker's had his thumb on me all these years because he's blamed me for what happened, which is so unfair, because he's the one who got the pills in the first place. I just used some of them."

Mac stared at Leigh, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. She gazed at the twin black streaks running over the hill of her cheeks. "What?"

"You were right. Mia never wrote that note to me. I was just trying to push you to find her. She stopped talking to me and started blaming me, too. I had to find her!"

"For what?" Mac held her gaze but in her peripheral vision she was looking behind Leigh to the door. She needed to twist open the lock and get out but Parker was likely somewhere outside this room, off the machine but still in pursuit.

"For giving Ethan the pie. I didn't know about Ingrid. I just wanted him to die, like we'd all pledged. I never expected him to actually crash the car. That was . . . Karma ! But Ingrid wasn't supposed to be part of it."

"Leigh, I don't know what you did, but we need to get away from Parker."

"I was just doing what we all agreed on. I didn't know about Ingrid! All of a sudden I'm the bad guy. But Parker was the one who sold Ethan the drugs! I just put them in the pie."

"You doctored a pie ?" Mac saw again the strange look on Erin's face at the moment Roxie declared, " I Eta Pi ."

"I put it on the back seat of his car, watched him drive away, the asshole. I brought the pie to grad night. I'd crushed the pills. People ate off it before I added the powder under the crust. I could tell Ethan was leaving, so I wrapped it up and put it in his car."

Mac blinked at her, just as Parker roared again and slammed his fists against the window to the showroom. Both Mac and Leigh jumped, but Leigh just yanked open a drawer and grabbed a wicked-looking knife, one used for cutting carpet.

"Holy shit. Leigh, don't use that. We need—"

"It's Elayne," she snarled. " Elayne Denning . I'm not staying married to that fucking leech." Her blue eyes were lit by a flame of fury. "He blackmailed me into marriage. I've been acting for years . . . the loving, dutiful wife. He told me I wouldn't get the part. He cursed me. You know what I ended up getting in Chicago ? One of the jailbirds. That's it. That's all!"

Mac was beginning to see that Leigh—Elayne—was teetering on the edge of crazy. No arguing with her, so she changed tactics. "Those are good parts, too."

"It was a mistake to hire you. I should've just pushed on Mason. He would've given her up."

Parker howled with frustration and then there was silence. What was he doing? Mac couldn't trust either of them. "Did you . . . see Mia yesterday?" she asked cautiously.

"You mean, did I kill her?" She struggled to answer. "I met her for coffee and she was all upset about Ben, but then she said we couldn't be friends because she knew I'd killed Ethan! But she was done with him. She said so. I knew it, she knew it! She pledged with the rest of us. Erin got it wrong, but then Erin . . ." She clenched her fists. "She knew . . . when Roxie cackled, ‘I ate a pie,' she knew. She always knew but pushed it down. She was so grateful to me. But I saw that she remembered . . ." Leigh cocked an ear to the sample room. "What's he doing? Don't trust him. What's he doing? "

"Leigh—Elayne—what about Gavin?"

"Asshole!" she snarled. "Blaming us all . . . but they aren't my friends anyway. You saw them. They're all a mess and they think I'm the one with problems!"

"I didn't hear that, I thought—"

"I should have never hired you! And then Kristl invited you! You know why, don't you? She wants to be friends. " She said it like it was a dirty word. "Because The Sorority isn't about friendship. It's about power and popularity. That's what we had, but Ethan . . ." She gritted her teeth. "Erin had sex with him. Can you believe it? The worst of us and he fucked her ?"

She was jumping all over the place. Mac said carefully, "Is that why you gave Ethan the pie?"

"You're not listening! I just found that out yesterday !"

"I'm sorry." Where was Parker? Mac glanced at the door.

"Open your eyes, Mackenzie. They were all backstabbing me: Parker, Mia, Erin, Natalie, Kristl, Roxie ." She spat the last name out. "None of them cared about Ethan like I did and I would have done anything for him after . . . how nice he was to me!" Her voice broke and her hand shook. Mac looked down at the wicked, curved blade of the carpet cutter.

Mac was counting the seconds, expecting something from Parker. She wasn't certain Leigh would actually use the knife, but she was volatile and emotional and unpredictable. It appeared she'd killed Ethan and Ingrid, and Gavin and Mia . . . because she was jealous ?

"I loved him and he failed me," said Leigh. A declaration.

"He was a cheater," Mac suggested carefully.

"He was a cheater," she agreed. "But I knew he was a cheater."

"That's why you gave him the pie."

"NO! He told me I was a shit actor! He laughed at me. Said Summer Cochran was terrific and that I was third string. He was drunk, but he meant it. I thought he cared but it was all a lie!"

"What happened with Parker?" she asked.

"Are you taking his side?" Leigh demanded.

"No, I just don't know—"

" ELAYNE! " Parker suddenly screamed.

Leigh's face went blank. She suddenly jumped forward, slashing. She caught the arm of Mac's coat, slicing through, scratching her skin. Mac grabbed her arm as the office window suddenly burst apart, glass spraying everywhere. Leigh screamed and whipped around as Parker threw the chair he'd broken the window with at her. It knocked her sideways and Mac leapt for the door, fingers fumbling on the lock.

She yanked the door open but Parker bowled into her, throwing her into the desk again. Leigh leapt forward with a war shriek and ripped the carpet cutter across Parker's face.

He howled in fury and grabbed for her.

Mac jumped forward, seeking freedom. Leigh grabbed her by the hair, jerking her head back. "Don't leave!" Leigh snarled.

Mac saw the curving blade above her eyes. Oh, God . . . ! Holy God . . . !

Parker yanked Leigh by the neck, spinning her around. Mac stumbled forward, through the door, and crashed into one of the rows of samples, tiles flying all around her. She covered her head, tried to get her feet under her. Looked back. Saw Parker wrest the blade from Leigh's hands. Toss it aside. Leigh clawed his face with her nails. Broke free. Staggered forward. Reached for the knife again, holding it, twisting her hand.

Parker jumped on her and she collapsed with a scream that sent cold shivers down Mac's back. He banged her head against the floor as Mac scrabbled for her phone, staggering forward.

She ran for the front door and the outside and ran and ran, sloshing through the mud puddles to her rental, skidding to a stop. She'd left it unlocked and threw herself inside.

Parker came screaming out of the door but Mac was already reversing, spraying water, her tires shrieking. He snatched for her driver's door, hooked his hand. She slammed the Focus into drive and the car leapt forward, dragging him a few feet before he wrenched his hand free.

She barreled out of the lot, nearly smashing into rush-hour traffic. She dared a glance back. Parker was standing in the rain, clutching his hand, dark, bloody streaks down his ravaged face.

As soon as she was far enough away to feel safe, she dialed 911 with one hand.